


Something to Rely On

by missbeizy



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, M/M, Public Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 20:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbeizy/pseuds/missbeizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <a href="http://thetimesinbetween.tumblr.com/">thetimesinbetween</a>, who requested an <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/676722">“Oh Simple Thing”</a> one-shot.  This one shot and the parent story are both fairly light in terms of kink factor.  </p><p>Warnings for: D/S relationship, age difference, student/teacher, sex in a public space (empty choir room).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something to Rely On

The atmosphere in the glee club after the Nationals win is joyful--Kurt's kids vibrate with it, especially once final exams are out of the way.

The rehearsals for their graduation performance are nothing but fun; there's a sudden lack of drama and Kurt is so pleased with them that he lets them pick one of the three songs they're going to sing. 

Several of the students patch but none during school hours, so Kurt sends off his usual funny cards to the kids while they recover at home and is grateful that they were able to do so before going off to college. It's never fun to have to go through that sometimes hundreds of miles away from a familiar face, especially when you're trapped in a dorm situation that affords little privacy.

He's trying not to think about graduation itself or about the long distance video interview he just completed for the job in New York. What matters right now is the end of the school year, completing his paperwork, and giving proper goodbyes to his graduating seniors. 

He wonders how the underclassmen will react if he does get and take the New York job--it actually makes him hurt to think of leaving them, but he can't--right now he just--

Shit, why can't this be easier?

 

*

 

And in the meantime, there's Blaine, now his bonded partner. They've kept the nature of their relationship entirely secret at school with the exception of the principal and Emma; Kurt just doesn't have it in him to lie to his boss and Emma already knew, no matter how discreet they have been. 

As a bonded pair they are permitted the freedom of intimacy regardless of circumstance or their age difference, and Blaine is still in his class and allowed to perform both in the choir and the show choir, but Kurt isn't allowed to grade Blaine's work or treat him as anything other than a student during school hours. Neither is a hardship, though they've had to sacrifice their mid-afternoon chats as a precaution. Sometimes they don't need to touch to get intimate, and there have been times when those conversations were not innocent in nature.

He blushes at the piano in between classes, remembering the one time he'd laid out in excruciating detail just what he was going to do to Blaine later that night and he'd actually made Blaine come in his pants rubbing against the door jamb, gasping and begging.

This is definitely not the mood he needs to put himself in this morning.

 

*

 

The first time he sees Blaine today is fifth period choir. 

Blaine is wearing a bright pink polo shirt that is so tight it shows off every curve of his back and shoulders and the little belly he has developed just above the waistband of his slacks. He smiles at Kurt over his shoulder as he walks in, eyes dancing with playfulness.

Lately all it takes is proximity and Kurt can't control the joy that leaps in his chest at the sight of Blaine, or the heat that snaps down his body when they're close enough to touch. He wants to reach out and tangle his fingers in Blaine's hair, wants to push Blaine down onto his knees just to hold him in stillness and peace, just for a second, god, why can't they--

He swallows thickly and turns to face the class.

Blaine's eyes are wide and wet, his pupils blown. Kurt can sense the need coming off of him in waves, can almost see it, like heat rising off of asphalt. For whatever reason he's worked up this morning, and Kurt's desire to satisfy him settles, low and painful in the pit of his stomach.

It's all he can do to teach that afternoon with a straight face and a steady voice.

It doesn't help that Blaine is set to practice choreography with the partner he's going to be performing with at graduation and, to add another layer to the torture, Blaine's partner for graduation is another male student. It's not uncommon; it's just that it's one less bit of distance between reality and fantasy as Kurt watches the taller boy lead Blaine around the choir room.

To add insult to injury, the taller boy is a dom, and even though the dancing is perfectly innocent it's obvious that he feels Blaine's need, perhaps not as keenly as Kurt does but still to a lesser degree; his fingers linger, his eyes keep ticking unconsciously over Blaine's body, and every step is drawn out a little too long. 

Kurt wants to step between them but the urge is insane and he knows it.

Normally he has no reaction to Blaine dancing with anyone of either gender or for whatever reason, but today with Blaine's submissive hormones obviously raging and this boy's hands all over Blaine Kurt can barely suppress the longing to push Blaine over the nearest unforgiving surface and make him come apart in front everyone.

God, he hates these days when their shared need pushes them to the limit. He can see the desperation on Blaine's face and it's almost painful to have to let it pass.

He's not surprised when Blaine lingers after class. But they've been so good so far, so respectful of the rules, and they can't.

All he does, however, is stand on the opposite side of the piano and stare at Kurt.

"Are you alright?" Kurt asks, cheeks flushed and hands clenched into fists.

Fuck, Blaine's pupils are still dilated and his nipples are hard (impossible to hide with how tight that shirt is) and his fingers are literally bending his notebook in half.

"Um," he breathes, wetting his cherry-red lips. "I should go. God, I just wanted to look at you for a second." His eyes eat Kurt alive.

The air between them vibrates with tension.

"I'll see you at practice?" Kurt would normally push harder to make sure that Blaine is okay but right now he fully believes that Blaine is right; they need to separate, right now.

"Y-yes, sir," Blaine whimpers.

 

*

 

Blaine arrives at Glee mere moments after the last bell of the day rings. 

He's so far gone that Kurt can feel him even before he enters the room and, for the very first time, Kurt wonders if he needs to escort Blaine to the nurse so that he can be given something to calm him down. It's the only legitimate way that Kurt could take care of him right now.

He seems to settle down once they start, though, so Kurt lets it go.

Rehearsal runs for an hour and a half and for the duration of that time they don't even look at each other; it's become that intense. They're focusing on vocals today so this is easy to accomplish, at least; Kurt plays the piano and conducts alternately, so he can avoid making eye contact with Blaine almost the entire time.

Again, Blaine lingers until they're the last two in the choir room.

Kurt draws on every bit of strength left in him and says, "Straighten the room."

Blaine shakes, mouth trembling. 

The halls are still full of students.

"Put the sheet music away, too," he adds, eyes boring into Blaine's.

As the building slowly empties, Kurt grades papers in his office. When he runs out of work to do he pretends to work, looking up every now and again to watch Blaine adjust chairs, put instruments in cases, dust the piano, file sheet music, clean off the dry erase board, and a half a dozen other brief chores. 

He's struggling, shoulders down and eyes fever bright, but every act completed means something to him, means doing exactly as Kurt has asked, and Kurt knows how much he needs that structure. He does best when he's kept busy; it calms him down and brings him exquisite pleasure.

One by one the lights go off. 

The janitor comes through for the trash (which Blaine helps him gather with a helpful smile), but Kurt knows that the floors aren't scheduled to be mopped tonight, so when he leaves he won't be coming back a second time. He'll clean the bathrooms down the hall but he won't enter or pass the choir room again.

Blaine has run out of things to do so he's sitting at the piano, head down, waiting.

God, he is perfect.

But Kurt waits. He waits until he's sure that the building is empty of everyone but the janitor and himself and Blaine. Blaine is coming home with him tonight, staying the week, so it's not as if his parents will expect him (or as if they'd care, even if he were set to go home), and school is over for the day. 

He thinks about what he wants, carefully, deliberately, then exits his office and locks the door behind him.

Blaine stiffens but doesn't move when he approaches. Kurt gives the hallway one last glance, then decides.

"You've been so good for me today," he says.

Blaine breathes out a wet, gasping sob. 

Kurt's stomach twists up hungrily. He reaches out, slides his fingers through the hair at the nape of Blaine's neck and closes his hand into a fist, gently tugging Blaine's face up and around.

His eyes are full of tears. Kurt holds him in place, even though he's straining to get closer, and kisses him, rough and fast. He struggles a little and Kurt is sure that the hold on his hair grows painful as he does so but he doesn't stop, most likely can't at this point, and Kurt is eager to forgive him the resistance; he gasps against Blaine's mouth, pushing a tongue past those plump lips.

"Kurt," comes the shuddering plea.

Kurt can't stop kissing him, can't stop sucking his already bruised lips. They're so sweet.

"Please," Blaine whimpers, arms trembling at his sides. "Please, may I touch you?"

"How, Blaine? Give me details." Kurt sits beside him on the piano bench but leaves space between them.

"Use me," he begs, butting his head against Kurt's hand. "Use my mouth, please--"

"Right here, at the piano?" Kurt asks, stroking Blaine's hair. "On your knees?"

"Yes, god, yes, please." His throat heaves as he sucks down difficult breath after difficult breath.

Kurt kisses him and their tongues tangle just between Blaine's lips as he pulls back, and he strokes the back of Blaine's neck, then presses it as he inches the piano bench back. He keeps his eyes locked on Blaine's as he undoes his dress pants, the noise of the zipper sliding down loud in the silent, empty room.

Blaine whimpers, kissing the corner of Kurt's mouth, trembling with restraint. When he's like this, overwhelmed with submissive hormones and desperate, he's so much more reserved. He'll wait for permission at almost every turn, and while Kurt loves Blaine whether he's being a handsy, loving teenager or this beautiful, controlled creature in front of him, there is just something about Blaine in need of his cues that makes his dominant hormones go insane.

"No hands," he breathes over Blaine's lips. "Just your mouth. Is that okay?"

"Yes," Blaine answers, almost before Kurt finishes asking.

Kurt encourages Blaine onto his knees, breathing frantically through his nose with a nervous glance at the door. He can't see anyone through the glass and hope sincerely that the janitor doesn't alter his routine tonight. 

"Okay?" he asks Blaine, worried about the hardness of the floor, but Blaine is too busy staring at Kurt's undone fly to give more than a terse nod. "You can touch me, love."

Blaine curls closer, pressing his forehead to Kurt's inner thigh. He kisses over the cloth hungrily, stopping to mouth open and wide only when he reaches the underwear-clad bulge between Kurt's legs.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he sighs, rubbing his cheek up and down. "I could almost taste you, it was so much--"

Kurt groans, leaning back on one hand as Blaine gets comfortable between his thighs, nuzzling him until he's fully hard in his briefs. He cards one hand through Blaine's hair, which is coming apart under the gel, and presses harder against him. "Perfect," he murmurs, rubbing himself against Blaine's jaw. "Make me so hard."

Blaine licks over the warm cloth, uttering a soft, broken noise. "God, the way you smell--"

"Use your mouth, honey."

He seems to understand that, finally, and uses his lips and teeth to nudge open the slit at the front of Kurt's underwear, encouraging his cock to straighten and rise. When Blaine finally gets him free of it he whimpers, dragging his tongue down the warm shaft. 

It's no surprise that Blaine requires little instruction; he uses his mouth to draw Kurt out straight, licking at the head of his cock with wet, fast laps until the angle is just right and then he eases down, taking Kurt in inch by inch until his mouth is stuffed full.

Kurt gently tugs at his hair, pushing gradually all the way to the back of his throat. "Breathe for me--oh, fuck." Blaine swallows around the head, his needy whimper sending vibrations along Kurt's cock. Kurt gently rocks forward. Blaine's lips close hard around the base of Kurt's cock.

After a day of being literally battered by Blaine's need, having him on his knees now, taking Kurt's cock so well is a sweet relief. He cups Blaine's jaw, thumbing those gorgeous, swollen lips as they bob up and down, up and down, taking him in again and again.

"Let me fuck your mouth, baby," Kurt breathes, overheated and shaking. 

Blaine pulls off with a whine, his mouth wet at the corners and his chin sticky with saliva. "Anything," he says, tongue just at his lip, "Please, I just want your come, I just want to swallow it--"

Kurt is nervous enough about letting Blaine suck him off at the piano in the damned choir room that he can't bring himself to protest the speed. He stands, heart in his throat, dick throbbing for a touch, and feeds himself back into Blaine's mouth with a groan. Once settled at the right angle he holds Blaine by the back of his head and begins gently thrusting past his lips.

The wet, sucking smack of Blaine trying to holding him inside while he tries to move freely is obscene. 

Kurt feels heat flare over his face as Blaine's tongue flattens against the underside of his cock and looks up at him, wide, desperate hazel eyes so round and full, hands held obediently in front of him.

"More," Blaine rasps. "Please?"

"God," Kurt gasps, fucking forward a little deeper, and then deeper still, until Blaine's throat learns to close up at the same time that he inhales through his nose and Kurt can clip that wet sucking clamp every time without making Blaine gag. It's a sweet, wet drag, and it's perfect. "Oh my god, Blaine, your mouth--"

Blaine whimpers urgently. Kurt pulls back, gasping, close, cock hanging wet and hard just in front of Blaine's lips. "Please," he whimpers.

He deserves it. He's been so good.

Kurt shakes with the knowledge; sex, good sex, is one thing, but the pleasure of a poised, eager sub who wants nothing more than to be the very best they can be, for themselves first and their dom second, is an ever-unfolding delight that never ceases to surprise him. He is indescribably lucky.

Blaine presses his forehead against Kurt's thigh. 

"Shh," Kurt whispers, tilting his face up. "You can have every drop, sweetie, just open up for me, okay?"

He whimpers, nodding, looking almost wounded by the depth of the reward, plush bottom lip dropping. Kurt traces the shape of his mouth, then settles just inside the moist circle and begins jacking himself. 

Blaine's eyes never leave his; he can't possibly fully understand the effect his eyes have on Kurt's inability to slow down when they're like this. The desperate, aching love in them makes Kurt useless.

The press of his own hand feels so good after the naturally limited gripping capability of Blaine's lips; he breathes out around the escalating arousal that's settled deep in his balls, unable to ignore the little high-pitched noises that keep falling from Blaine's trembling mouth.

"Such a good boy," he murmurs, close and losing himself in it. "All mine--"

Blaine licks the gaping slit of his cock, pushing just a little bit inside and wiggling the tip of his tongue. "Come on. Fill my mouth up, Kurt. Want it, want it so much--"

Shit. Shit.

He sees white behind his eyelids when it happens and he pushes blindly forward into the hot cavity of Blaine's mouth, his gasping cry echoing off the ceiling and reverberating around them. He gushes wetly inside Blaine's mouth and whimpers when Blaine sucks all around him, drawing it out.

He feels it when Blaine swallows greedily, still sucking, still bobbing. The wet drag of his tongue over Kurt's sensitive tip sends shocks of electric-like pleasure down his body. He cleans Kurt off so thoroughly that there's no evidence of anything at all when he pulls away, softening.

"Oh," Blaine breathes, swallowing the slickness from the back of his throat. His eyes stare upward hazily. "Oh, Kurt, that felt--"

"Come up here." Kurt's knees are about to give out, so he loops his arms around Blaine's neck and kisses him. He can feel the hard dig of Blaine's erection against his hip. He hums greedily, reaching between them and rubbing the curve. "Hmm, what have we here?"

Blaine blushes. His face is still quite red with exertion, his lips swollen from friction. He looks thoroughly debauched. Kurt can smell himself on Blaine's breath. 

"Make me wait," he blurts, cheeks going darker. "Please. If--if you don't mind."

Kurt smiles sweetly, darkly, licking a strip across Blaine's bottom lip. "Make you wait until it hurts? Make you wait until we're at home and I can lick you open, spread you with my fingers, get you ready for my cock?" He sucks the swollen lip between his, then bites down on it firmly. Blaine twitches, gasps. "Fuck you while I hold you down, then put my fingers inside you where you're all loose and full of my come and rub your prostate until you squirt all over yourself?"

"Kurt, yes. Yes, all of that, oh, my god." He's shaking again.

"You'll have to keep being very good for me," Kurt adds, stroking Blaine's clothed cock with his thumb.

"I will, I'll be so good for you."

Always.

Kurt smiles with approval, leading Blaine across the room by the hip. "Let's go home, sweetheart."


End file.
